


When Stiles Met Scott

by heartsdesire456



Series: When Stiles Met Scott (A collection of childhood adventures and mishaps) [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Cute Kids, First Meetings, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Kid Fic, Light Angst, Non-Graphic Animal Cruelty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-02
Updated: 2014-08-02
Packaged: 2018-02-11 12:33:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2068338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartsdesire456/pseuds/heartsdesire456
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>The boy let out a small whine. “They killed it!” he cried. “They killed it and it didn’t do anything to them!”</i>
</p><p> </p><p>  <i>Stiles frowned. “Who killed something?” he asked.</i></p><p> </p><p>  <i>The boy looked up with big, fat crocodile tears slipping down his round little cheeks. “He was just hoppin’ around, doin’ frog stuff! They hit him with a rock and he died,” he whimpered, shoulders shaking as he buried his face in his knees again.</i></p><p> </p><p>The story of how Stiles and Scott met when they were 7 years old.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When Stiles Met Scott

**Author's Note:**

> Sooooo I love headcanons about Scott and Stiles's childhood shenanigans and I had to write this one after watching Guardians of the Galaxy (if you saw the beginning, you get why that made me think of this) so yeah.

Stiles was chasing after the ball that rolled away from where he and his class were playing kick ball at recess when he heard something whimpering under the slide. He frowned and walked around the side, squatting down only to find another boy curled up with his chin on his knees, arms around his legs, crying. “Uh… hey, kid, are you okay?”

The boy looked up and sniffled pitifully. “Go away,” he whined, putting his hands over his face as he started crying harder.

“Aww, no,” Stiles said, crouching down to put a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Hey, it’s okay. You’re gonna be alright,” he said. “What’s wrong?”

The boy let out a small whine. “They killed it!” he cried. “They killed it and it didn’t do anything to them!”

Stiles frowned. “Who killed something?” he asked.

The boy looked up with big, fat crocodile tears slipping down his round little cheeks. “The fourth grade boys,” he mumbled, sniffling pitifully. He turned and looked to the right and Stiles followed his eyes and saw a dead frog lying on the ground. “He was just hoppin’ around, doin’ frog stuff! They hit him with a rock and he died,” he whimpered, shoulders shaking as he buried his face in his knees again.

Stiles bristled, angry at whoever it was that killed the poor little frog. “Awww, buddy, that’s horrible,” he said, shuffling closer to hug the crying kid. “Those boys are really mean.”

The boy looked up at Stiles, sniffling. “I’m- I’m Scott,” he managed in a small voice.

Stiles smiled and patted his shoulder. “I’m Stiles,” he said, then looked at the poor froggy. “Alright, I’ve got an idea, just work with me, okay?” Scott nodded and Stiles grinned. “Stick with me, Scotty, and everything will be alright.”

~

When Melissa got to the school, there was another man sitting in the waiting area at the office, knelt in front of Scott and another boy with big brown eyes that seemed full of anger. She looked at Scott and immediately worried they might have got in a fight, only to see Scott seemed to be leaning against the other boy’s shoulder. “Hey, what’s going on?” Melissa asked as she got to Scott and he gave her a watery smile.

“Hi, Mom! This is Stiles!” he said, grabbing the other boy’s shirt sleeve. “Stiles, Stiles, this is my Mom.”

Stiles looked at Melissa for a moment, then smiled brightly. “Hey, you’re really pretty! Dude, you didn’t say your mom was a fox!” Stiles accused and Melissa saw the man – she assumed Stiles’s dad – slap a hand over his face.

“Mom, Stiles is my new best friend,” Scott said, and Stiles nodded, throwing a skinny arm around Scott’s little shoulders.

“Totally.”

Melissa was interrupted from responding by the door to the principal’s office opening. “Mrs. McCall, Mr. Stilinski, step into my office, please,” Mrs. Smith said, giving Stiles and Scott a stern look that made them both duck their heads.

Melissa sighed and stood up, following the other parent into the office. She took a seat in one of the chairs and Mr. Stilinski shrugged off his uniform jacket and sighed heavily. “What’d he do now?” he asked, looking more than used to this. 

“What’s this all about?” Melissa asked worriedly. “Scott’s never got in any sort of trouble before,” she started, but the principal shook her head.

“They aren’t in any real trouble,” she reassured right off the bat. “Well,” she adjusted. “Stiles doesn’t get recess for the rest of the week, but mostly we called you because Scott wouldn’t stop crying, but as you can see, he was fine after we let him and Stiles sit together again. I think he’s fine, but you were already on your way here,” she explained.

Mr. Stilinski cringed. “Just give it to me straight.”

Mrs. Smith chuckled. “Well, as per usual when it comes to Stiles, while his intentions were noble, his methods are a bit… unorthodox.” The man snorted as if this was par for the course, and Melissa assumed it was. “He was doing it for Scott,” she explained to Melissa.

“For Scott?” Melissa asked, frowning.

Mrs. Smith chuckled. “Some older kids killed a frog and Scott was very upset,” she explained and Melissa groaned.

“Oh God,” she sighed. “Scott loves animals,” she explained to the other dad. 

“Well,” Mrs. Smith continued. “Stiles’s class and Scott’s class have recess at the same time and apparently Stiles came across Scott crying over a frog some older boys threw rocks at and killed. He was really sweet to comfort Scott,” she assured Mr. Stilinski. “It’s just… well, he got carried away.”

“Of course he did,” Mr. Stilinski muttered, then looked up with a weary look. “What’d he do?”

Mrs. Smith seemed to be fighting a smile as she spoke. “Well, Mr. Stilinski, Stiles convinced Scott that they should bury the frog. Which would’ve been fine… except they buried it in the sandbox,” she explained and Melissa winced. “And then Stiles decided it deserved a proper funeral so he climbed on top of the slide and talked about how Mr. Hopper had lived a good, long life and was survived by his wife and tadpoles,” she said and Melissa couldn’t help the smile she hid behind her hand.

Mr. Stilinski frowned. “Well… that’s not _that_ bad is it?”

“He then pointed out the older boys who killed him and proclaimed loudly that they were ‘vicious murderers’ and that ‘torturing animals as children was a sure sign of serial killers’ and now half the kids who were at recess now think that four fourth grade boys are serial killers,” Mrs. Smith continued and Mr. Stilinski groaned.

“Aw, Stiles.”

“And when the gym teacher, Mr. Jones, had to dig up the frog and remove it from the sandbox, Stiles started yelling, and I quote-“ She picked up a discipline slip and cleared her throat. “Stiles shouted at the gym teacher, ‘exhumation requires a court order, you dirty, rotten grave desecrator’.” Melissa had to bite her lip behind her hand to keep from laughing, and she could see the sparkle of amusement in the principal’s eyes even as she tried to remain serious.

Mr. Stilinski sighed heavily. “I am so sorry about this.”

Mrs. Smith gave him a sympathetic look. “Well, I have to give him credit for his spirit of not condoning wrongdoers and his use of very advanced vocabulary for a seven year old,” she soothed. “But he still needs to remember to tell the teacher what happened, not take matters into his own hands.”

Mr. Stilinski chuckled. “Stiles is too smart for his own good sometimes,” he said with a shake of his head. “And sorry about all the serial killer and exhumation stuff. I’ve had to take him to work with me and let him hang around the office a lot since my wife’s been in the hospital,” he explained and Mrs. Smith gave him a sympathetic nod.

“I figured,” she said gently. She looked at them both. “Well like I said, they aren’t in any real trouble, and Scott’s calmed down so I’m sorry we called you, Mrs. McCall,” she reiterated. “Maybe just talk to them both about what happened today. Make sure they understand that, while they didn’t do anything _wrong_ , they just went about it the wrong way.”

Melissa nodded. “I’ll definitely talk to him.” She grimaced. “His dad moved out recently, so he’s extra sensitive lately,” she explained gently and Mrs. Smith smiled sadly.

“Yes, that could explain a lot,” she said. 

Mr. Stilinski smiled. “Sorry about Stiles getting him in trouble. My wife’s been in the hospital for a few months so Stiles is a little extra rambunctious without someone to play with him at home. He’s very energetic, very opinionated, and far too curious for me to be leaving around the station much.”

Melissa shrugged. “Hey, it’s nice to see Scott have a friend. He can’t really play like a lot of the other kids do because of his asthma so he doesn’t really make friends.”

When Mrs. Smith dismissed them and told them they could take the boys home for the day if they wanted, Melissa went to collect her son, only to find Scott sniffling into his new friend’s shirt while the other boy – Stiles, Melissa’s mind corrected – hugged him and patted his back. “It’s okay, Scotty, we’re not in trouble. Your super pretty mom will tell her it’s not your fault.”

Mr. Stilinski groaned. “I’m so sorry,” he started again but Melissa waved a hand.

“Hey, I’m not gonna complain that somebody thinks I’m pretty,” she joked, then walked over and knelt beside them. “Scott, sweetie, you wanna come home with Mommy?” she asked.

Scott’s little head popped up and he looked wide eyed. “You’re not working?” he asked, and she shook her head.

“No, we can go home,” she answered.

Stiles looked up at her. “You should take him to get ice cream,” he said and his dad groaned. 

“Stiles!”

“No, really,” Stiles continued, looking at Melissa. “He’s had a really hard day, poor Kid,” he said, patting Scott’s floppy hair. “Look at that face!” he said, turning Scott’s face to his dad, grasping him by the chin. “Do you see this face?! This is the face of a kid who is traumatized! He witnessed a murder, Dad! He totally needs ice cream and like fifty hugs!”

Melissa couldn’t help but laugh. “I’ll get Scott some ice cream,” she agreed. “If your dad says it’s okay, do you wanna come get some ice cream with us?” she asked. She glanced up at his dad. “He’s did a good thing for my Scott today.”

Mr. Stilinski chuckled but nodded. “I’m off of work.”

“Awesome!” Stiles said, smirking as he winked at Melissa. “Gorgeous and smart, just how I like ‘em-”

“Oh God, _Stiles_ ,” Mr. Stilinski sighed and Scott made a face at Stiles.

“Ew, gross, she’s a GIRL,” he stressed and Melissa laughed, rolling her eyes as she took Scott’s hand and pulled him to his feet.

“Come on, Scott, sounds like it’s time for ice cream.”

Mr. Stilinski held the door for Stiles and looked at Melissa with wide, earnest eyes when she passed. “I apologize ahead of time for … everything. Everything Stiles gets Scott into,” he said solemnly.

Melissa just laughed and shook her head as she followed the boys, watching them talking a mile a minute. It was nice to see him with a friend finally. Watching as her son lit up in a way she’d never seen, she couldn’t help but smile and ask, “Ah, how bad can it be?”

Mr. Stilinski’s expression clearly said ‘you have no idea’ even if he didn’t use any words.

**Author's Note:**

> Fair warning, this could totally end up being a series of oneshots about Scott and Stiles's childhood adventures.


End file.
